Death Becomes Her

Few people know that I'm terrified of dying. Those who know are surprised; I mean, isn't that what horror writing is all about?

As a child, imbued with faith from regular church attendance, vacation Bible school, and the fervency of extended family, there was no doubt in my mind about the existence of God and heaven and life-ever-after.

Now, I'm just not sure. I certainly still believe in the concepts of good and evil; I mean, without them I'd have nothing to write about. I'd like to think that after I die there will be something to continue into, but I no longer have the faith that exists in the absence of proof.

And it's that thought--that after I go there will be nothing more--that scares me. I feel like I have so much more to learn and see and contribute, that I'm working against some invisible clock that's counting down to my own personal UN-eternity.

So maybe all of this is what drew me into horror, and continues to draw me to seek out information on the evil that people do, and the amazing complexity of the human body and spirit. And, of course, death.

Over the years I have drifted from obsessions with concepts in books, movies, and television on all of these topics. My most recent was the idea that as the warriors of God, angels are probably not always the white-light soft-winged vision of loveliness we depict them to be (in fact, I haven't given up this obsession, I'm planning a book of short stories around it). But now I've become interested in how we (and by "we" I mean you all, because I haven't run across many other people like me who aren't okay with the concept of dying) view death. I ordered the Six Feet Under series on Netflix and plowed through it, hoping for some epiphany that would make me realize "it happens, and it's okay."

Loved the series. No epiphany.

Now I'm loving Pushing Daisies, which approaches the idea from a much more lighthearted place, but is still witty and edgy about the whole thing.

Love the show. Still not okay with the dying thing.

But all of the fretting and research and self-examination at least has allowed me to explore my fear. Not just about death, but about other things that scare me, albeit to a lesser degree. And from some of that comes amazing inspiration for my writing.

So I guess it's not all that bad. In the end..